New Selection of Hymns and Songs suitable for public and social temperance meetings. Compiled by the Rev. F. Beardsall

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W. P. Ellerby, 1836 - 158 Seiten
 

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Seite 147 - Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And while the bubbling and loud hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
Seite 139 - Waft, waft, ye winds, his story, And you, ye waters, roll, Till, like a sea of glory, It spreads from pole to pole ; Till, o'er our ransomed nature, The Lamb, for sinners slain, Redeemer, King, Creator, In bliss returns to reign.
Seite 121 - What though of gold the goblet be, Embossed with branches of the vine, Beneath whose burnished leaves we see Such clusters as poured out the wine ? Among those leaves an adder hangs ! I fear him ; for I've felt his fangs. The Hebrew, who the desert trod, And felt the fiery serpent's bite, Looked up to that ordained of God, And found that life was in the sight. So, the awvrc-bitten's fiery veins Cool, when he drinks what God ordains.
Seite 43 - See the short course of vain delight Closing in everlasting night; In flames, that no abatement know, Though briny tears for ever flow.
Seite 65 - O ! for the pinions of a dove, To bear me to the upper skies. 5 There from the bosom of my God, Oceans of endless pleasure roll; There would I fix my last abode, And drown the sorrows of my soul.
Seite 47 - In vain the world accosts my ear, And tempts my heart anew ; I cannot buy your bliss so dear, Nor part with heaven for you.] HYMN 102.
Seite 42 - ARISE, my tenderest thoughts arise ; To torrents melt my streaming eyes, And thou, my heart, with anguish feel Those evils, which thou canst not heal. 2 See human nature sunk in shame ; See scandals pour'd on Jesus' name ; The Father wounded through the Son ; The world abused; the soul undone.
Seite 74 - And can no sovereign balm be found ? And is no kind physician nigh, To ease the pain and heal the wound, Ere life and hope for ever fly...
Seite 64 - I SEND the joys of earth away, — •Away, ye tempters of the mind ! False as the smooth, deceitful sea, And empty as the whistling wind.
Seite 62 - My suffering, slain, and risen Lord, In sore distress I turn to thee, I claim acceptance on thy word, My God ! my God ! forsake not me.

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